


Gimme That Fire

by cruelest_month



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: But only helping out some people, Desolation!Tim, Friendly texts between avatars, Gen, Helping out in a monstrous way, M/M, Plotting, Prying, Spoilers for Episode 142, Spying, Tim Lives AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 11:32:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19425118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruelest_month/pseuds/cruelest_month
Summary: Tim stood outside under an awning, unsure how the rain would affect him and unwilling to risk it.For fuck’s sake, Jon, it took you long enough.





	Gimme That Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this while listening to [Fire by Barns Courtney](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V_TJLWBLtNk) on repeat.

He stalked the Magnus Institute, never venturing too close. From across the street, he would watch people enter and smirk as he noted those who never came out again. The sidewalk he stood on cracked slowly, fissures glowing red before turning black. If he stood too long on the tarmac, it oozed and sizzled. He left a trail of ash in his wake. The powers were a bitch to control. 

By far the greatest disappointment was Martin. Poor Martin. Fog and static followed him like a two-headed dog. Perhaps the spiders that skittered behind this sad procession could save Martin? Tim envied them their patience. 

For a research facility and archives that ran on fear, paranoia, and knowing the unknown, Tim was amused when no one ever turned up to suggest he shove off. In fact, not a single soul appeared to notice him at all save for an older man. 

This particular figure – a new face at the Institute- typically appeared entirely out of nowhere at random, rapidly texting on a cell phone. He seemed to be in good spirits at all times, occasionally chuckling to himself. He always wore the same thick, grey coat and a dark captain’s hat with gold laurels on the brim.

They locked eyes once. Tim took a sharp drag on his cigarette. The Captain grinned, tipping his cap. His cell phone chirped a short while later. A text from someone he didn’t know. The suggested sender was one Peter Lukas.

_my but u r a bad one. what would bouchard say?_

The Captain then. Tim snorted as he sent a reply. _I’m sure he knows._

_don’t be too sure._

_Won’t you tell him._

_oh, tim. i won’t tell if u behave. let’s be friends._ 😘* __

They exchanged texts regularly after that and Peter extended several offers. Tim nearly took the older man up on them, but he didn’t feel he deserved it. He hadn’t accomplished his goal. He was there for one reason. He was there for Jon.

It was a slow bloody process, really. The Archivist never did anything on anyone else’s time. And then it happened. One minute he was nodding a farewell to Basira and the next Jon was hurrying off to a café. He sat there, staring widely at a woman. He looks hungry, crazed, and as if he hadn’t slept in ages. 

Tim stood outside under an awning, unsure how the rain would affect him and unwilling to risk it. _For fuck’s sake, Jon, it took you long enough._

No one was there to save her. The barista behind the counter was preoccupied with a rather bewildering order of six extra shots in a caramel macchiato. The graduate student who wanted the concoction was vibrating like a hive full of bees. 

The back booths were taken up by a merry bunch celebrating the end of a work week, a few would-be writers, and an artist trying to draw despite a rather awkward man who was sitting a little too close.

And oh but it was _delicious_ when it finally, finally happened. Tim closed his eyes, sighing heavily, feeling good for the first time in weeks.

 _Oh, Jon. You stupid fool,_ he thought giddily. And this was only the beginning. Oh, he couldn’t wait. 

For a moment, just for a moment, he guiltily thought again of Martin. Then he snorted quietly. _You picked a fine time to turn into a bloody ostrich. You love him so much? You should keep an eye on him. Dozens of them. What are you doing hiding in an office?_

When Jon ran off, Tim stalked into the place. He got the poor shaken woman an extra large mocha. She was crying silently as she sipped. A bit of warmth went a long way when fear was eating at you. It wouldn’t save her, but the extra shots would keep her awake a bit longer.

Sipping his own drink, he put a white-hot hand on the awkward man’s shoulder. “Fuck off,” he murmured politely. And the man did.

“Stab him with a pencil next time,” he suggested to Ashley as they exchanged names and pronouns. 

They showed him their picture and offered the work to him. The drawing was of a swirling mass of fire full of eyes devouring a man who looked remarkably like the one Tim had chased out. Tim insisted Ashley sign it. 

“I thought it might put him off.”

“You never really know with some people,” Tim advised, smoothing out the drawing and setting it on the table between them. He waited out the rainstorm watching them sketch. He thought about getting their phone number but they could do better. 

The woman – Jon’s victim – left slowly. Tim thought to get her name too but there was no real good way to do so. Instead, he set a business card down in front of her. 

“Go here. Speak to a manager,” Tim told her. “If you see that man again.”

She looked up at him, more than a little confused.

“We used to work together,” Tim explained with a smile. “Bit of a prick, if you ask me. That’s why I quit.”

She pocketed the card and left without saying a word.

It only took him an hour or so to locate Ashley’s unwelcome fan. Backed up against an alley wall, the man panicked, unsure what to do. 

“Thing is,” Tim explained calmly, melting fingers digging into exposed skin. “Listen carefully and shut up. The thing is, no one cares what happens to you. The thing is, you are utterly without anything or anyone to turn to. Nothing and no one would save you from burning. I think you should have to live with that. When the proper time comes, that is what should end you. Not me.”

Once the man was out of sight, Tim sighed as he straightened up. There was still a bit of hunger left, but only just a bit, and with any luck this man would provide Tim with fear for a while to come. That just left his boredom to deal with.

He fished his cell phone out of his pocket, staring at Peter’s last few texts for a while. Well, it couldn’t hurt. 

_Hey, Peter_ _._ _How are you?_

_hi, handsome._ 🔥 _** never better. u?_

 _Not bad. You busy?_

_hardly ever. when and where can i have u?_

_now. yours?_

He was sent the address to a rather posh address. _do you want a car sent ‘round?_

_Yeah._

If nothing else, it would amuse him to have Peter know where Tim had been when he had to deal with the remnants of Jon’s meal. As for what he’d seen, well, the rest of them could figure that out on their own. Why spoil their fun?

**Author's Note:**

> * should be a kissing face emoji  
> ** should be a flames emoji
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this! So the odds are good that I might write more about Tim soon if I can think of some other scenarios for him. Possibly with Martin but maybe with others.
> 
> (I've been posting most TMA fic things on tumblr first where I'm cruelestmonth.)


End file.
